


Outside Our Parameters

by oliviathecf



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Green Lantern (Comics)
Genre: Cunnilingus, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Trans Guy Gardner, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-27 21:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19797835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oliviathecf/pseuds/oliviathecf
Summary: He was starting to become an obsession.





	Outside Our Parameters

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commissioned piece from someone who prefers to stay anonymous.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Fights were generally a lot shorter than they were in movies, something that a lot of people didn’t know unless they had actually been in one. Really, they were over in around one or two punches at most. Someone usually went down before then or they just gave up or were separated by another person.

That wasn’t usually the case with their fights.

Hal couldn’t exactly remember what he had said but he certainly felt the punch, Guy’s knuckles cracking off his face in a way that might’ve been satisfying if not for how much it hurt. He hit the ground and it was looking like it was going to be one of those one punch fights. Or it could’ve been, it should’ve been, Hal staying down.

Instead, he got back up and shot Guy a red tinged grin, asking for another one because there was a part of him that was some sick masochist. He wasn’t going to give up that easily, squaring right back up and preparing for the next punch.

It came because Guy wanted to punch Hal as much as Hal wanted to be punched, and he could hear his nose crunching wetly before he felt the pain. But, God, did he feel the pain, sharp and angry and just a bit too good to be true. It made him feel alive, like he was actually doing something, and it had been all too long since he had last felt something like that.

Hal’s eyes slid down to Guy’s biceps, perfect as they were, and he thought that they were probably his best asset. Guy noticed him looking, he always did, grinning broadly at him.

“You’re so obvious, Jordan.” He laughed, moving in close and pushing Hal to his knees.

Because it wasn’t the punching he wanted. Not entirely at least, no. Hal wanted to be pushed into this, watching as Guy pushed his pants down to reveal what Hal really wanted to see, what he wanted Guy to force him into with a grip on his hair.

Guy was fucking wet, sweet, thick, and cloying on his tongue. His huge hand was tangled in Hal’s hair, pressing him into his cunt with a force that made him think he might drown in the cascade of slick that practically poured out of him. 

Hal knew that this, bizarrely enough, was one of his favorite things to do in the entire world. Not the act itself, although he liked it quite a bit, but the fact that he was doing it with Guy. The dizzying reality that they’d fought for this and he’d lost, it made it primal. Guy grinning down at him made it fun and exciting.

They didn’t talk about it. Of course they didn’t talk about it, what could they talk about. Were they supposed to bring up the feelings that Hal wasn’t supposed to have, that Guy probably didn’t want him to have. Feelings would complicate the good thing they had going, the good thing that made Hal feel so bad. The slick and sweat dripping from his forehead, mixing together on his tongue, that strange, fantastic taste, and the bruises near his eyes that he could poke and prod later on when he’d jerk off to the thought of what Guy had done to him. And all the previous times they didn’t talk about, and all the future times that they wouldn’t talk about either.

It just kept happening. Guy was his most consistent hook-up, an ugly sort of relationship born from the way his brain mixed up fucking and fighting, tangled and inseperable.

Maybe what they had been arguing about had been important, maybe it was entirely unimportant. Maybe nothing they argued about was important, maybe it was all the same, just a means to an end, an explanation for Guy to ride his face or for Hal to fuck his mouth if it went the other way. Their own explanation for what they did together, a reason why they’d come together because it couldn’t be feelings or a desire to be close to one another.

Their own ritual. If it was violent, it could turn sexual without meaning anything. And Hal had grown very familiar with the taste of Guy on his tongue, heady and indescribable, a little sweet, a little coppery, a little tangy. Perfect and weird and entirely what he wanted, Guy riding his face as he knelt for him like he was being fucking paid for it. Like it was a reward for Guy, and maybe it was, fists turning into mouths mashing together like it was the same as the fight. Teeth and hands and tongues and lips, and Guy’s cunt and clit pressed against Hal’s mouth because he was taking what he hand won.

His prize, riding Hal’s face and hissing down words that hurt about as much as the fists had. Because Hal lost and maybe he had meant to lose, maybe this was exactly what he wanted, maybe he needed the humiliation to be rock hard and leaking into his uniform.

Hal licked down to his hole, pressing the tip of his tongue inside to chase that feeling, that taste. He was something to be used by Guy and it was electrifying, made him feel desperate, made him grind the heel of his hand down into his cock.

He thought he could get off like that, hardly touching himself with Guy moaning above him.

“Yeah, that’s it, Jordo. You like this, doncha? Cause I like you like this.” Guy hissed out passed his teeth, sneering down at Hal and pulling his hair harder.

And he did. He liked being on his knees, liked feeling like he was Guy’s fucking conquest. Because Guy had knocked him down, got the last punch, and now he was pulling Hal’s hair hard enough that he thought it might end up in a clenched fist, removed from his head along with the last of his brain cells.

“At least you’re good at something, huh?” Guy said, giving a breathless laugh as Hal moved his tongue back up to circle his clit, “Can’t fight for shit but you’ve got this going for you, Jordan.”

Lips closed around it, providing just enough suction that Guy grunted and practically squirmed above him, using his grip on his hair to grind down hard against his tongue. A flash of pride shot through him, maybe he felt good about himself, maybe he wanted the approval, maybe he needed the feeling of pain shooting across his scalp.

Hal felt lightheaded, the need to breathe escaping his mind. The only thing he needed was Guy’s taste on his tongue and his fingers pulling his hair out of its previous styling. When Guy would kick him out, everyone he’d pass would know what they had done, his hair wild, his eyes colored with a certain amount of need, mouth smeared and ruined with slick, red and open wide to get more and more. His walk of shame a performance in humiliation, falling against the door of his sector house and thrusting up into his hand.

He thought about winning for a moment, tongue spreading Guy’s lips and moving back down to his hole to thrust inside, tasting him again as he thought about being the one to fuck Guy’s mouth, thrusting into his throat with a grip on his short hair. It would be good, he knew it would be, it’d be satisfying and hot and he’d get off on it.

Did he even want to win? Maybe he was meant to lose, maybe that was what got him off. A part of him that didn’t work as hard because he craved that perfect humiliation that came with losing, that came with being used.

Maybe he wanted to lose their fights because he liked the perfect consequences he got from losing to Guy Gardner. Maybe he liked it almost too much, an obsession forming in his mind over the feeling of being put on his knees, put in his place. Because it was his place, on his knees, pleasing Guy.

It had changed his brain, destroyed the walls any person put up around themselves, and rewrote it to be the fucked up version of himself that he had become.

Guy’s fingers stroked over his scalp almost lovingly, close enough to it that warmth built up in Hal’s chest, something he could never say to him. He liked doing this, there was no place he’d rather be than on his knees for Guy, eating him out and doing what Guy wanted because it was the perimeter of their relationship. Their shaking, tumultuous relationship that they had built with their ruined hands. 

It wasn’t meant to last, not without some serious discussion, but that wasn’t them. That wasn’t how they did things. 

Maybe he was asking too many questions, maybe he was overthinking things. He should let himself enjoy the feeling he got, straining hard against his uniform from the taste of Guy on his tongue, dripping down from his mouth as he worked at the place that had Guy giving those rumbling moans. He should enjoy it before it was gone, hands coming up and gripping Guy’s ass to pull him closer and sliding his tongue inside of him to taste him again.

It wasn’t going to last because it couldn’t last, not with how they were. Maybe they were doomed even if they tried to talk about it, because neither of them were good about talking. It was why they fucked around instead of actually committing to the way they felt, whether hate or love or lust. Hal would spit insults one moment and fall to his knees in the next, leaning into Guy’s hand and stroking up Guy’s thighs reverently.

Guy broke him out of his thoughts by pulling him back by the hair and forcing him to look up into his face. He was flushed, unnatural green eyes blown wide and mouth gaped, but Hal knew that he had to have looked much worse.

“Lemme get a look at you, Jordan.” He breathed, fingers tightening on Hal’s hair.

He probably looked about as much of a mess as he felt, Guy’s slick painting his face, tears leaking down his cheeks from everything that he had been thinking about and from the way he had been too occupied to breathe. One of Guy’s thumbs slid over his cheek, pushing his juices into Hal’s open mouth.

“Oh yeah. You look good like this.” He said, grinning broadly, thumb hooked on Hal’s wrecked mouth.

The praise burned him, making him groan wordlessly and try to push back in. That was why he did it, chasing the praise that he had started to crave from Guy. And this was what made Guy different from everyone else, what made him chase this.

He eagerly leaned back in and Guy let him, forcing him back into his cunt, tongue sliding back up as he sucked on his clit. 

It wasn’t going to last much longer, not when Guy’s thighs started to tremble, grunts turning into breathless moans. The fingers tightened painfully in his hair, pulling him in closer and riding his face. He was aiming to get off instead of the power play it had been before, eyes squeezed shut, hands clenching Hal impossibly close.

Hal almost wanted to tease but he knew he wasn’t in the position to do that. Guy had all the power and he wanted to get off, so Hal could only reach down and grab himself through his uniform, letting Guy do whatever he wanted. 

And he did, pulling Hal’s hair hard and gasping out his climax, grinding against his face. Guy’s body bowed, and he cursed loudly as he shook with his orgasm.

Hal couldn’t hold back. It took only one, two passes of his hand to paint the inside of his uniform with cum. His cheeks flushed, he had just come in his pants like he was a touch-starved teenage, but he couldn’t help himself. Not with the taste of Guy on his tongue and the knowledge that he had been beaten in the best possible way.

“Ya did good, Hal.”

Guy looked down with his flushed face and heaving chest, chuckled, and stroked his face in a way that could only be described as fond, in a way that almost made Hal open his mouth and spill everything on his mind.

Almost.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave some love (or hate) either here or on my various social medias.
> 
> [ Fic Blog. ](https://fanfictionolivia.tumblr.com/)   
>  [ Twitter. ](https://twitter.com/fficolivia)


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